


Pulse

by Agent_Cade



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 02:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Cade/pseuds/Agent_Cade
Summary: In the Pegasus galaxy even the most harmless have the potential to become a monster. Vamp!fic.





	Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the crummy formatting - copy/pasted from a Word document so bye-bye italics, line-spacing etc.  
This has been sitting on my hard-drive for years in a state of 'not good enough to post', but I've finally decided I don't care.

They were on their way back to the gate after an uneventful trade mission when Major Lorne’s calm was broken by a yelp from his designated scientist. He spun one-eighty on the spot and had his P90 raised in an eye-blink. Zelenka had a hand clamped against the side of his neck, but his expression was more of annoyance than pain, becoming apologetic when he caught Lorne’s eye. “Sorry,” he muttered, “mosquito.”  
Lorne knew better than to take chances out here in the Pegasus galaxy. He lowered his weapon and marched right up to Zelenka, gently prising his hand away from the wound on his neck to inspect it. The area was already red and inflamed, a pin-prick of blood beaded in the centre.  
“Pretty big mosquito,” he surmised, “Dr Beckett’s gonna have to take a look at you.” He released Zelenka’s wrist and ordered everyone to pick up the pace.  
-  
“Well, the Major was right to bring you to me,” Beckett held a chart in his hand, but he didn’t look worried, “we never know when a bug bite is going to turn into something more serious. However, in this case you seem to have gotten lucky. It might itch like a wee bastard for a couple of days, but it doesn’t look like anything we need to worry about.”  
From the other side of the gurney Lorne breathed a sigh of relief. He considered himself a generally easy going kind of person, to the extent he could be as the leader of Atlantis’ secondary team, but when it came to Zelenka he felt excessively over-protective. He’d grown quite attached to the scientist, to his own surprise; it wasn’t as if they had all that much in common, but they could keep a conversation going and even make each other laugh, and it was that latter quality that had earned Zelenka the title of ‘friend’. This wasn’t always a positive thing though, as today had demonstrated. That pained yelp had sent Evan’s heart into his throat, and that sort of added stress on off-world missions was not something he needed. Still, he had no other option but to suck it up; they always needed a scientist in the field, and McKay couldn’t be everywhere at once. He channelled his concern into vigilance, and was generally doing a good job.  
-  
The first sign that something was different with Zelenka was passed off by most as a well-justified loss of temper. Lorne was only in the lab because he had needed to speak with Colonel Sheppard; McKay and Zelenka were already arguing when he got there. He only really understood about every third word they said, but the tone gave away more than words could anyway. Eventually the science fell away and they were just insulting each other. Sheppard clearly found it all very entertaining, saying and doing nothing, just standing there arms folded across his chest and an amused smirk on his face. A smirk that quickly transfigured into an expression of shock when without warning Zelenka swung a fist at McKay’s jaw, making contact with a ‘crack’. Lorne didn’t know if he should step in and do something; the scientists were civilians, entitled to settle their disputes without military intervention. Fortunately the violence went no further; McKay staggered backwards until he hit the workbench, his hand going to his face.  
“Did you see that?!” He turned incredulous eyes towards Sheppard who merely nodded, mutely.  
Zelenka was blinking a lot, his mouth hanging open; he looked as shocked as McKay.  
Lorne didn’t see who started it, but slowly a round of applause gained volume around the lab as the many scientists who’d borne witness to the unexpected spectacle, made their approval known. He fought the urge to join in.  
Sheppard guided a hurt-looking McKay out of the lab.  
Lorne took a step closer to Zelenka, and observed that he was pale and shaking, staring at his hand as if he didn’t recognise it as his own.  
“I have no idea why I would do that,” he admitted, meeting Lorne’s eyes with complete open honesty.  
“Just between you and me,” Lorne leaned in close so that the other scientists wouldn’t hear; “he had it coming.”  
-  
Two days later, Lorne was on his way from a transporter to his quarters, having just spent two hours in the gym. All he was thinking about was a nice hot shower to soothe his already aching muscles. He wasn’t running, but he was moving pretty fast, so when he slammed into Zelenka as he rounded a corner, his momentum sent the smaller man sprawling backwards.  
“Oh shit, Doc!” He instantly dropped to his knee to help him up, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”  
Once he was back on his feet, Lorne could tell something was definitely wrong. The scientist was pale, swaying slightly, eyes blood-shot and dull.  
“Doc?” Lorne kept a hand on Zelenka’s arm, half expecting him to faint, “Radek, can you hear me?”  
Zelenka didn’t give a verbal response, but he met Lorne’s eyes and nodded.  
“C’mon, let’s get you to the infirmary.” Lorne wound an arm around Zelenka’s waist, taking some of his weight as they returned to the transporter.  
-  
Beckett had diagnosed anaemia, and he seemed to be on to something, as a daily dose of iron tablets took care of the problem almost straight away. Zelenka looked ten times better the next day. He moved with more energy, his eyes were brighter, and he generally seemed to be back to his old self. A week later he was deemed well enough to accompany Lorne’s team and a couple of other scientists on a mission to look at some promising weapon designs.  
Evan was concentrating on flying the jumper, but he couldn’t help smiling at the animated chatter coming from the rear compartment. He found he really enjoyed listening to Radek talk; it wasn’t just the accent, although that was a factor, he couldn’t quite pin-point exactly what it was. He announced the landing and gently put the jumper down in a field just outside the city they were visiting.  
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we’re not expecting any excitement on this one, but let’s not get complacent.” He lowered the back hatch and led the way out. “You’re all to stay in radio contact, and no wandering off,” he shot a pointed glare at a young English post-graduate who had a habit of getting separated from the group. The young not-quite-doctor had the sense to look penitent. Lorne looked over the rest of them and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”  
He fell into step with Zelenka and was about to start asking about the weapon designs – the Pegasus equivalent of small-talk, he supposed – when he noticed that the scientist appeared to be in quite some discomfort; he was shielding his eyes from the sun, and grimacing as if in pain. As Lorne looked him over he could swear he actually saw pale skin redden and blister.  
“Everybody back to the jumper!” he cried, grabbing Zelenka by the arm and hauling him back the few yards they’d come. Once Zelenka was seated in the shade, he turned back to his men. “Dawson, did anyone say anything about radiation?” His mind going back to his first mission in Pegasus, remembering that not all the planets they visited were a safe distance from their respective suns.  
“Uhm, no, Sir,” Dawson looked confused, until he saw Zelenka, his hands and one side of his face an odd crispy-looking shade of purple. “Nothing came up on the HUD.”  
“Is everyone else okay?” Lorne asked around the jumper, taking in similar expression of concern and confusion from all the occupants. He checked his own exposed skin and noted no damage at all, the others all looked fine, too. He sighed, “we’d better get him back to Atlantis.”  
-  
“Are you by any chance competing with Rodney for most infirmary visits in a month?” Dr Beckett asked on seeing Radek back for the third time in two weeks. His smile faded when he saw the burns. “Oh my goodness.”  
“I have no idea what happened,” Lorne admitted. He felt guilty; all Zelenka’s recent maladies has either happened on his watch, or been his fault.  
“Looks like severe sunburn, maybe next time you should invest in a decent sunscreen.” Beckett turned to a cabinet and retrieved a tube of ointment.  
“Sunburn?” Lorne looked back at the scientist, and sure enough, in this light the burns seemed to have faded significantly; there were patches of redness, but if they’d been angry before they were merely mildly annoyed now. “No, you don’t understand, we were only out in the sun for two minutes, maximum. And no one else got burnt.”  
“It’s fine,” Radek suddenly chipped in, clearly not enjoying the attention. His eyes were unfocussed but moving around as if he was trying to work something out. “I will take the cream, maybe have a lie down in my quarters. Dr Coleman should be able to fill in for me.” He swallowed and looked at Beckett for permission.  
“I’d really like to get you in the scanner,” the doctor insisted, “This could be related to the anaemia.”  
Zelenka looked as if he were about to protest, but when both Lorne and Carson fixed him with a no-bullshit glare, he submitted, making his way to the scanner and lying down obediently.  
Dr Beckett was about to begin the scan when he seemed to remember Lorne was still present.  
“Uhm, Major, technically the results of the scan are confidential…”  
“He can stay,” Radek interrupted, he turned sheepishly towards Evan and added, “If you want to, of course.”  
Lorne smiled.  
“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” After all, he hadn’t completely ruled out the possibility that this could somehow be his fault.  
The scan took less than two minutes and was capable of performing an almost complete physical; it could pick up a bruise that had appeared healed for over a week, it was that sensitive. The bug bite showed up as the lowest level of trauma, with only mild inflammation left. A couple of values at the side of the screen were flashing in red, but Carson explained that they were representative of the low haem and overall iron in Radek’s blood. The ‘sunburn’ was a little more awkward to rationalise; it seemed that something in Radek’s skin had reacted to the UV light, but whatever that something was, had burned up in the reaction.  
“What’s that?” Lorne pointed at a value highlighted in yellow.  
“White cell count,” Carson waved his hand as if it were irrelevant. “Still marginally elevated from another ATA gene therapy test.”  
Zelenka sat up on the table.  
“It still won’t take,” he looked disappointed, and Lorne felt slightly guilty that he’d not had a problem with the gene therapy. “Does it say anything else?”  
“All I can see from this is the anaemia, keep taking the capsules I gave you, put this ointment on the burns, and go have a rest.” Carson had barely finished talking and Zelenka was already off the table and out the door. The doctor frowned and turned to Lorne.  
“If he starts displaying any other symptoms, bring him straight back to me, you hear?” He sounded serious.  
“Sure thing, Doc.”  
“He’s lucky to have you,” he added with a smile. At Lorne’s confused eye-brow raise, he quickly added; “I mean, to have a friend like you looking out for him.”  
Lorne nodded then left to resume the mission, although this time he was insisting on everyone using McKay’s homemade factor 100 sunscreen …just in case.  
-  
The next time Lorne saw Zelenka, it was close to midnight, Atlantis time, and in - of all places - the gym. The Major had been struggling to get to sleep and so decided to go wear himself out on a treadmill. The gym itself looked remarkably similar to every gym he’d been to on Earth; rows of treadmills, cross-trainers, rowing machines, bikes and resistance machines, it had even been kitted out with floor-to-ceiling mirrors for that truly narcissistic touch. Evan had historically stayed away from free-weights and the resistance equipment, he kept his muscles toned but intentionally avoided bulking up, he wasn’t stupid; he knew he was short, and that he’d look pretty fucking ridiculous with bulging biceps and pecs. He tightened the laces on his running shoes, and stepped onto the treadmill. He plugged his headphones in, set the speed, gradient and time, and went straight into a run.  
He was vaguely aware the whole time that someone was running on the machine next to him, but he paid them no mind, concentrating instead on his own target. It was only when he’d completed thirty minutes and the treadmill automatically slowed to a leisurely 5kph cool-down, that he even spared him a glance. And promptly did a double-take.  
“Good morning, Major,” Radek greeted him, only slightly out of breath. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his hair seemed somehow… tamed.  
“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Evan asked, taking out the headphones and trying to conceal how much his lungs were burning from the workout.  
“Since I’ve been signed off from active duty, my routine - eating, sleeping - it has become… difficult to maintain.” He hit the stop button on the treadmill’s console at the same time as Lorne’s machine slowed to a halt. “On the positive side, I seem to have more energy now than I have done in years.” He certainly looked energised.  
“Good, hopefully that means I can look forward to having you back out in the field with us soon.” Lorne was distracted by the tickling sensation of sweat dribbling down from his hairline, he looked around and realised he hadn’t brought a towel down with him. Without thinking about it, he raised the hem of his t-shirt and used it to wipe his face and neck.  
“Wow,” Radek looked impressed, his eyes hovering in the vicinity of Lorne’s torso, and more specifically, his tightly defined abs.  
Evan could feel himself blushing; he’d never been good with attention, he swallowed hard and tried not to think about the sensation of Radek’s eyes on him, as tangible as fingers. When he finally got over his embarrassment and looked up he found himself locking gaze with the scientist. Had his eyes always looked like that? Dark and bright at the same time? Granted, the lighting in the gym wasn’t meant for close inspection, but it gave enough illumination to see deep, ocean coloured eyes brighten to an unnatural electric blue, then turn dark again, all around tiny black pinpricks of pupils. While he watched the colours dance, he felt relaxation spread out through his limbs, a sense of calm he barely even recognised. Maybe he’d worn himself out, just as he’d intended.  
“I gotta, uh…” But he couldn’t move, couldn’t break the eye-contact. He licked his upper lip, nervous for some reason.  
A small smile tugged at the side of Radek’s mouth, and somehow it was the most confident expression Evan had ever seen on his face; it was almost seductive.  
“You should go get some sleep,” he instructed in a low voice, little more than a whisper.  
And just like that, Lorne came blinking back to his senses and found he had the energy to move his feet. Concerned that the adrenalin could wear off at any moment, he decided to head straight back to his quarters.  
“I think you might be right,” he said, yawning, “goodnight.”  
That night, Evan’s sleep was filled with the most sexually explicit dreams he’d had since he was a teenager.  
-  
The next morning, after showering and changing the sheets, Lorne was called to a meeting with Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Beckett.  
“We may have a security issue,” Sheppard explained, once the three of them were seated in his office.  
“Someone has been stealing blood,” Beckett elaborated.  
Lorne looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure what he was hearing.  
“From… people?” He eventually asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion.  
The Colonel rolled his eyes and sighed heavily,  
“No, not from people,” his tone was impatient and condescending; the way McKay spoke much of the time. Beckett was trying not to laugh. Both of them making him feel like an absolute idiot.  
“Someone has been stealing the bags of frozen blood we keep in the infirmary stores. You know when all you field teams come back from off-world missions half blown-up, or shot or missing limbs? What do you think I replace all the blood you lose, with?” The doctor addressed him as if Lorne personally had been blown-up, shot or lost a limb. Now he thought about it, he remembered an e-mail about a blood-drive about six months ago – he hadn’t been eligible to contribute as he was in a permanent on-call position, still was, in fact.  
“Okay, so why would someone be stealing blood?” he asked, hoping that wasn’t quite as stupid a question as his last.  
“Think about what we have here on Atlantis, that most other worlds in this galaxy don’t.” Sheppard seemed to be giving him a chance to redeem himself. After a moment, Lorne replied;  
“Ancient tech... Oh, the ATA gene! But why would someone on Atlantis-” and then he really understood why this was a problem, “a spy?” Would one of their own really be stealing samples of blood, in the hope that a gene-carrier was among them, and be passing them off to another race? It seemed so unlikely, but then what other explanation was there?  
“I’ve been over the security footage,” Beckett said, deliberately choosing not to speculate out loud on the spy theory, “I cannae see any obvious theft occurring.”  
“I want you to take this investigation, and let me know as soon as you have anything.” Sheppard was already standing up from the desk. He pointed at both of them, “this meeting; never happened. We can’t take the chance of the thief knowing we’re onto him, he’ll start covering his tracks even more.” He paused for a moment, looking a little uncomfortable. “The thief could be anyone, remember; this is Pegasus, home of possessions, mind control, shape-shifters and God knows what else. We can’t trust anyone, even the people we… uhm, trust.” He didn’t look too happy with the way that came out, but Lorne understood perfectly.  
And you’re trusting me, Lorne thought to himself, and he felt a surge of pride about that.  
-  
His first action was to watch the security footage for himself. Doctor Beckett had narrowed down the time frame within which the theft took place to fifty-six hours – the time between the last inventory and a young marine requiring a transfusion during an appendectomy. Three bags, each containing a pint of blood, had been removed from cold storage but not accounted for in the logs.  
The cameras were placed one at the infirmary entrance and two within the main body of the room. The door to the cold storage locker was not visible from any angle, but a person would have to pass through the fields of all three to get to it. Lorne watched the footage at 5x speed, slowing down whenever anyone came or went. He closely scrutinized three potential suspects who arrived and departed with bags, but none of them seemed to get close enough to the blind spot where the locker door was.  
He was nearly at the end of the fifty-six hours when he noticed Beckett on the screen getting up from his desk – also half-concealed by the blind spot – and leaving the infirmary. He frowned to himself, and rewound the video by five minutes. Beckett got up, pushed his chair under the desk and walked out of the door. Then, five minutes later, he did the exact same thing without having returned.  
Lorne stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. Someone had doctored the tape; played five minutes on a loop to cover something up. Now, Evan wasn’t a computer whiz, but he was aware that you can’t go manipulating security footage without leaving some kind of trace; any alterations would have been logged, possibly even under an access code. All he had to do was find someone who knew computers well enough to uncover the identity of the thief.  
“Colonel Sheppard,” he radioed, “I’m gonna need a geek for this bit, can I have Cheng?” He’d worked on some computer-related stuff with Cheng before, he knew the guy would probably be able to crack this in a couple of minutes.  
“No, I wanna keep this slightly closer to the chest,” there was a pause while Sheppard seemed to be weighing up the options, “you can’t have McKay, he’s working on the gate-bridge macro, but I guess you could take Zelenka.”  
Lorne felt his heart beat a little harder at that, his system flooded with a momentary burst of adrenalin. He had been avoiding scrutinizing his feelings, and when they caught up with him it was always a little disorienting. I could be in trouble here, he thought, but what he said was;  
“I’ll radio in when we have something.”  
-  
He didn’t bother explaining the blood part of the theft to Zelenka, he just vaguely hinted that some ‘supplies’ had been stolen, then went on to describe the mini-loop he’d found in the security footage. Zelenka watched the tape, muttered something not-English, and then began tapping away at the keyboard. While he worked, Evan tried to put his finger on what was different about the scientist today. He just seemed to look generally healthier, although that could have had something to do with the clean shave and some sleep. Did his hair look thicker?  
He’s not wearing his glasses, he realised after an embarrassingly long time.  
“You, uh, seeing the screen okay there?” He asked.  
Radek looked up sharply, making eye-contact that almost made Evan jump. Apparently it wasn’t just the lighting in the gym; the Czech’s eyes were astonishingly bright, and Evan had to force himself to look away lest he become a drooling puddle of zombie, again.  
“I just meant you’re not wearing your glasses, I mean, I would have thought you needed them for this sort of thing, you know? Looking at computer screens and all those numbers flashing up, and I’ll stop talking now and let you get on with it.” He had no idea why he felt so flustered, it was absolutely not like him to babble like that. He told himself, on repeat, that it had nothing to do with those dreams last night.  
“I don’t need them for everything,” Zelenka turned back to the computer and hit a couple more keys. His jaw was moving slightly, as if he was grinding his teeth. “It’s gone,” he stated.  
“Gone? What’s gone?” Lorne snapped back to himself and leaned in over Zelenka’s shoulder.  
“The keystroke log. Whoever erased the footage and replaced it, covered every move they made. They deleted any evidence that anything was ever done to it.”  
“Aw, you gotta be kidding me,” he complained. Then a thought occurred; “how many people here have the technical know-how to pull this off?” he asked.  
Zelenka seemed to think for a few moments.  
“Uhm, including McKay and myself, maybe a dozen of us?”  
Lorne nodded to himself. At least they were narrowing the list of suspects down.  
-  
When Beckett called to tell him that another pint had vanished mysteriously, Lorne decided to guard the infirmary himself. When there were folk inside, he positioned himself inside the room, trying to act casual, unarmed, as if off-duty, one eye constantly on the cold store. When the room emptied, he waited outside, just around the corner, hoping to catch someone trying to sneak in. He slept in two hour naps in the infirmary, while Doctor Beckett sat at his desk and stared at the door.  
He hadn’t realised that the infirmary was ever unmanned; there was always a designated on-call doctor and nurse, but they weren’t necessarily stationed within the infirmary. They were contactable by radio, and could be there in less than two minutes. Particularly at night, if there were no in-patients, the infirmary was dark and eerily silent.  
A whole day passed. And then another one. Sheppard started getting impatient; he’d had to postpone all but the most essential gate activities until the thief was caught. Lorne didn’t know what to do. Clearly nothing had been taken in the last two days, it wouldn’t have been possible. As well as his guard duty, they’d rigged an alarm to the door of the cold store, and it hadn’t been triggered.  
Almost out of exasperation, he disabled the alarm and opened the store, as if the blood itself held the answers.  
There should have been twelve bags – there were ten.  
-  
“Two, this time, he took two! Right from under my nose!” Lorne paced back and forth across Sheppard’s office, which was really only about five steps each way. “I have no idea how this bastard is getting past me, past the surveillance, and now past the goddamned alarm we set up!”  
“Major, sit down,” the Colonel ordered, quietly.  
Lorne slumped down into the chair with a sigh.  
“I’m sorry, Sir. Knowing this place, our thief is probably invisible, or can phase through walls, or pause time or something.” He sighed again, spreading his hands to express hopelessness.  
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe we should be glad all he’s doing is stealing bags of frozen blood.” Trust Sheppard to put a positive spin on this.  
“The thing that’s starting to confuse me though, is why only take a pint or two at a time? And if they can’t get it off-world with your gate lockdown, won’t it be…” he made a face, “defrosting somewhere?”  
“Maybe he’s testing it here, in one of the labs?” Sheppard suggested. It was possible, if the first few samples hadn’t been from gene-carriers, then the thief would have had to go back for more. But that didn’t explain why he was only taking one or two from each break-in.  
“It might be time we brought Doctor Weir in on this.” Lorne advised, she would surely be asking questions about why gate-travel had been restricted.  
Sheppard nodded.  
“Agreed. You go get some sleep, Major.” He stood up and pointed a finger at Lorne, “and I mean proper sleep, in a proper bed, for a decent number of hours. Come back at this fresh tomorrow.”  
“Yes, Sir.” Lorne saluted and left.  
-  
It was just your regular freezer door. Like a meat-locker; thick, heavy steel with a big chrome handle. The store itself was only just big enough to fit a person in, but there was an emergency handle on the inside, just in case anyone did manage to get themselves shut inside. As well as the shelf where the blood was kept, there were other shelves and drawers containing vials, ice-packs and sealed packages the contents of which were probably only known to Carson.  
He hadn’t been able to get more than smudges off the handle; but if the thief was smart enough to avoid detection by the security cameras, then he was most likely smart enough to not leave fingerprints.  
Lorne had been staring at the door for almost half an hour, willing his brain to surprise him with some brilliant idea. Nothing was coming, though. He sighed and let his eyes close, head falling back. When he opened his eyes he was looking directly at the grating over an air vent in the ceiling.  
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”  
By climbing up onto Beckett’s desk, he could just about reach the cover. A gentle poke with his finger was all it took for the grating to fall to the floor with a clatter, drawing the attention of the on-call nurse from the other end of the room.  
“Sorry!” He apologised, jumping down from the desk. He scrutinised the opening, trying to judge if a human being could realistically fit through it. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, and the person would have to be pretty damn agile to get back up into it.  
Well, now he knew what to monitor, catching this bastard was going to be a piece of cake.  
But it could be even easier than that.  
-  
If he’d stopped to think about it for a moment, Evan would have admitted that the first person he should take this information to was Colonel Sheppard. But he hadn’t seen Radek in days, and he found he was missing the little guy. It couldn’t hurt to go and share his breakthrough with him.  
He was outside Radek’s quarters, knocking on the door before he realised how fast his heart was beating. Was he really here to work on the investigation? Or was he being driven by a huge embarrassing crush on the scientist?  
Oh, he really wished he hadn’t just thought that.  
The door slid open and he forgot how to make words come out of his mouth.  
“Evan,” Radek greeted him, “do you need something?” he gestured into the room and Evan followed him.  
“I, uh, I think I made a breakthrough in the infirmary theft.” He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, moistened his lips, and tried to look anywhere but at Radek’s face.  
“Really.” The Czech stepped closer and Evan’s breath caught in his throat. “What kind of breakthrough?”  
For a few moments he couldn’t actually remember the discovery he’d been so excited about just five minutes ago. It seemed unimportant now. What did seem important was how different Radek looked now; the lines were gone from his face, his eyelashes long and dark, his hair thicker and smoother, he even looked taller, but that was probably just the way he was holding himself with more confidence. His voice was louder and clearer, even though somehow his accent was stronger.  
Evan took a deep breath and shook his head; clearly he wasn’t getting enough oxygen to his brain.  
“You said there were only a dozen people on Atlantis capable of doctoring that security footage, right?” He tried to stay focussed, tried not to think about the fact that there was something not right about Radek.  
“That is correct,” Radek answered, his jaw clenched, but his expression neutral.  
“Well, of those dozen, how many do you think are small and agile enough to travel through the air vents?”  
“That would just be me.” He hadn’t even paused to think about it.  
It took a minute or so for Evan to comprehend what he was being told.  
“No, I mean, someone has been breaking in to the infirmary through the air vent, disabling an electronic alarm, stealing bags of blood, then erasing the security footage and covering their tracks completely.” He explained it slowly, almost as much to himself as to his friend.  
“Yes, me.”  
Evan forced a laugh, because this had to be a joke, right?  
“Okay, so where’s the blood? What are you doing with it?” he asked, subconsciously licking his lips and backing away.  
“Consuming it.” Radek’s expression was deadly serious.  
Evan felt his smile falter.  
“Whu-?” he asked in a whisper.  
“I need it.” Radek sighed, his expression softening, opening up, “there’s something wrong with me. With my blood; I can feel it. But I knew, somehow, that by consuming blood, I would feel better again. And I feel better than better,” he looked up at Evan, and there was a spark of the old, excitable Radek there, “look at me.” He gestured to himself. “I look ten years younger, I feel ten years younger. I’m stronger, faster. I feel in control - of everything. My senses are sharper than they’ve ever been, they’re superhuman; I can smell the different hormones secreted in people’s sweat.” He was talking faster now, the way he would when he became excited about a new piece of ancient tech. “Did you know that fear sweat, exercise sweat, nervous sweat, they all smell different? And I can tell them apart!” His eyes were bright and wild. Evan wondered if he even realised he was manoeuvring him into a corner.  
“Radek, this isn’t right, we have to go back to Doctor Beckett-”  
“No!” His eyes flashed dark with anger, “It is under control, I can handle it!”  
“You’re drinking human blood! That is not okay! You need help!”  
His hand went to his ear to activate his radio, but before his finger could tap the button his hand was jerked away, his wrist twisting painfully. There was a cold rage in those dark eyes, and it was terrifying. For endless seconds there was no sound but Evan’s laboured breathing. He could feel the strength in Radek’s grip, and knew he wouldn’t be able to get away if Radek didn’t want him to. So instead, he stepped closer, until there was almost no space between them at all. He brought his free hand up and rested it on Radek’s shoulder.  
“Please,” he whispered, squeezing gently, “I care about you, Radek, I want to help you.”  
It took a moment, but eventually Radek’s expression slackened, his eyes widening at the sight of his fingers wrapped so tightly around Evan’s wrist – he dropped it like he’d just received an electric shock, then backed away until he was sat on the bed.  
“Oh god, Evan, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” He looked frightened by his own behaviour.  
Evan was, too.  
-  
Major Lorne found himself explaining the situation to the senior staff by the window above the isolation room where Radek was sat on a gurney, head bowed.  
On the positive side, Dr Beckett had come up with a theory that seemed convincing despite the excessive medical jargon.  
“Doctor Zelenka was one of five people I tested a new ATA gene therapy on. The original mouse retrovirus was ineffective for him and many others. The next day he was bitten by some kind of bug-”  
“Bug?” Sheppard’s eyes narrowed.  
“Not that kind of bug, Colonel. He said it was like a mosquito. Major, did you see it?”  
Lorne shook his head, he barely had the energy for words after his lengthy recap.  
“That’s unfortunate, because I would like very much for someone to return to the planet and retrieve a few for analysis. Whatever this ‘bug’ was, it infected Zelenka with a virus that has been altering his genome in subtle ways.”  
“So why didn’t the scanner pick it up?” Doctor Weir already looked peeved at having been left out of this whole investigation for so long. Lorne got the feeling Colonel Sheppard was going to get his ass handed to him later for that.  
“Because technically, the virus infected the virus he was already infected with. When the scanner picked up the proteins on the surface of the viral capsule, it recognised them as those of the viral vector he had intentionally been infected with. Except instead of inserting the ATA gene into his genome, it has been inserting all kinds of genes at random loci, which is dangerous enough in itself. One of the genes that have been interrupted on both alleles codes for precursors to erythropoietin, which in turn is essential in the production of red blood cells. Somehow, by ingesting blood, his body has been able to scavenge what it needs to continue functioning. The other changes- well, the human genome is huge and complicated, it’s going to take me a while to isolate every mutation, and even longer to come up with a way of reversing the changes.”  
“Can’t you just use the same method as the ATA gene therapy? Obviously on a bigger scale-” McKay had been unusually quiet up until now. His relationship with Zelenka had been odd, even before all this; Evan didn’t know if they liked, hated or respected each other, or maybe some combination of the three. But since the smaller scientist had caught him off-guard with a right hook the other week, it seemed they hadn’t actually done any work together.  
“The other problem with the genome; it’s a minefield of tumour-suppressor genes. We have no way of knowing how much damage has already been done by these mutations. I don’t want to risk making it worse by going in blind. If I have some of those mosquitos, I can map them and hopefully I’ll have a better idea of what’s been changed, and how to change it back.”  
“What’s the problem? I’ll write a computer program to compare the DNA profile we have on record for him against what it is now. The computer will isolate the differences and-”  
“It’s not that simple! For a start, we don’t store the complete genome of every member of the expedition on file, we don’t have anywhere near the database capacity for that much information. The profiles we have are purely for comparison; just seventeen markers, STRs, from non-coding regions of the DNA. But that’s not all; mutations have occurred in different genes in different organs, we may even have to treat him one organ at a time.”  
There was quiet for a couple of minutes while it sank in for everyone.  
“What sort of time scale are we looking at here?” Weir asked, turning towards the glass, and looking down at Zelenka, still sat on the gurney, shoulders slouched.  
“Considering how long it’s already been, I think his symptoms have progressed as far as they are going to. And I can mock up a serum that should keep him alive without having to… you know.” Beckett looked uncomfortable even thinking about what Radek had been doing.  
“Yeah, the vampire thing.” Sheppard turned to his second in command. “Are we going to have a security issue?”  
Lorne had been selective about the information he divulged; obviously he’d left out everything about his personal feelings, but also, out of a sense of protectiveness, he’d left out the violence. He rubbed his wrist through the sleeve of his top; it was badly bruised and sore, and he had a dreadful feeling that it wouldn’t have taken a lot more pressure for Radek to have snapped the bones.  
“I wouldn’t say so, Sir, I mean; it’s Zelenka.” He put everything he had into his expression – call it puppy-dog eyes, or open honesty or whatever, it had always worked for him. “But, just to be on the safe side, I’ll stay with him, make sure he gets to his appointments.” He felt happy about getting to spend more time with Radek, especially now that they knew what was wrong with him, and that something was being done about it.  
“Okay, I’m gonna take my team back to that planet and try to round up any little flying bugs we find. Do we have a bug guy?” The Colonel’s question was aimed at Doctor Weir.  
“An entomologist, yes; Doctor Mason. I’ll arrange to have her meet you for a mission briefing.” Weir only looked half convinced. “Are we certain it’s okay for him to be out of isolation?”  
“If the virus is infectious at all, it will only be by transfer of bodily fluids. So unless he actually starts biting people…” Carson chuckled, but no one else seemed to find the thought amusing. He cleared his throat to break the silence. “Yes, well, I’ve explained all of this to him already.”  
Weir dismissed them, and Evan went straight downstairs.  
-  
“So, what do you wanna do?” Lorne asked, once they’d been by Radek’s quarters for a change of clothes and to pick up his laptop. He had visions of spending the afternoon playing chess, or watching a movie, and obviously it wouldn’t be a date, but they could probably grab dinner and maybe a drink later on…  
“I have some experiments running in a lab on the east pier. I should really go check on the results.” Not exactly what Evan was hoping for, but for a scientist that probably was as close to a ‘date’ activity as they were going to get. Radek marched purposefully towards the transporter, Evan was almost jogging to keep up, which made no sense as their legs were pretty much the same length.  
“Hey, are you using hair product? Or is this-” he indicated to Radek’s hair, which was just starting to curl at the nape of his neck, “-part of the whole vampire thing?”  
Radek blew out an exasperated breath and kept walking.  
“Please don’t call it ‘the vampire thing’,” he requested, “and no, I am not using styling products. All of this-” he waved his hands in front of himself, “-it is all side effect from virus.”  
They stepped into a transporter, and stepped out several miles away on the east pier. Evan was about to comment about how pretty much every woman he knew back on Earth would probably love to be infected with a virus that made them look younger, when he realised exactly where they were heading.  
“Wait, the east pier lab? Isn’t that the nanite lab?” He was still struggling to keep up without breaking into a full-on jog.  
“Yes,” Radek replied, almost brusquely.  
“I thought Doctor Weir halted all nanite research?”  
“She did force us to abandon several avenues of research regarding the potential weaponisation of the technology.”  
Lorne waited for the scientist to continue, but he didn’t say anything else, just returned to grinding his teeth.  
“But it’s okay for you to continue with whatever experiments you’re running now?” He already had the feeling it wasn’t. And the lack of verbal response only confirmed his suspicion.  
“Why did you lie to them back there?” Radek stopped walking suddenly, and turned to face him.  
Evan frowned.  
“I didn’t lie, what are you talking about?” He didn’t like being accused of lying, especially when he had no idea what it was about.  
“You told Colonel Sheppard that I wasn’t a danger. You deliberately concealed the fact that I hurt you.” His expression was mild curiosity and accusation, no apology.  
Evan looked around and realised that there was no one else around – the nanite lab was quite isolated, nothing else was on this level. His brain also took that moment to point out to him that he was unarmed. It seemed an odd thing to think about; why would he need to be armed? He was just accompanying his friend to collect some data, not storming a hive ship.  
“’cause I know you didn’t mean to. And I don’t think you are a danger.” He licked his upper lip, a nervous habit, and subconsciously touched the bruise on his wrist.  
Radek sighed and entered the lab. Evan followed him.  
“Wait, how do you know I didn’t say anything?” He found he was speaking to the scientist’s back as he started up the console.  
“I heard every word.” The screens lit up and Radek plugged his laptop in.  
“Seriously?!” Wow, when Radek had claimed his senses were superhuman, he wasn’t kidding. The isolation room was supposed to be well and truly sound-proof.  
“You don’t think I’m dangerous.” He turned around. “Look at me. Look at this.” He pulled his lips back, revealing subtly pointed upper and lower canines, and upper lateral incisors.  
“Jesus Christ!” Lorne’s eyes went wide, “when the hell did that happen?!” And they weren’t just sharp, they were whiter than the surrounding teeth.  
“I think the teeth have been growing in for over a week now. I noticed a few days ago that my jaw was aching. I think I was grinding my teeth in my sleep, but rather than grinding them blunt, somehow I’ve been grinding them into a point.” He spoke in a very matter-of-fact manner, as if he was trying to explain one of his astrophysics experiments to him. He turned back to the laptop and started typing. “Still don’t think I’m dangerous?”  
It took a moment for Evan to comprehend what he’d just seen.  
“Did you show that to Beckett?” He already knew the answer, so didn’t wait for Radek to shake his head, “this is bad.”  
“I know,” he continued to type, “that is why I’m programming the nanites to fix specific mutations in my DNA.”  
“You’re doing what?!” Evan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way Weir was going to be okay with this plan.  
“Beckett’s idea won’t work, I am getting worse.” The intense concentration on his face as he worked gave away his desperation. “His serum won’t work. The old- uh… extracted blood is barely working anymore, soon I will need fresh blood just to stay alive.”  
“Holy crap,” Evan’s voice had dropped to a whisper. Then, suddenly, it was like a light-bulb had switched on inside his head; “what about stasis?” He asked – problem solved.  
“I won’t be able to work on the solution from stasis.”  
“Well, no, but Beckett will, then we can just bring you around when we have a cure.” It seemed like such a perfect solution.  
“No.” Radek left the laptop to press some buttons on a console on the other side of the room, then returned and continued typing.  
“Why not?”  
“Because the cure he will eventually come up with will cause me to revert to the way I was, and I am not willing to give this up.” His voice was getting louder, he sounded frustrated, although whether he was frustrated with stupid questions, or the data he was reading, was hard to tell. He frowned at the screen, muttered something angry-sounding in Czech, then closed the program and opened up another.  
“What do you mean?” But Evan was pretty sure he knew what Radek meant; he wanted to keep his new abilities, his strength, his appearance.  
“I mean this!” He didn’t look up, but gestured to himself, “the strength, speed, aesthetic improvements, enhanced senses. I can’t go back to what I was.”  
Lorne suddenly felt a crushing sadness, and wondered how low the scientist’s sense of self-worth had been before all this.  
“I liked you the way you were.” And he really hadn’t meant to say that out loud.  
Radek paused in the middle of his typing to turn and face the Major, surprise and curiosity guesting on features that had been set and stony since they’d entered the lab.  
“You really mean that?” His head tilted to the left, inquisitive eyes searching for deception, as he stepped closer.  
“Well, yeah,” Evan didn’t really know what else to do or say, as Radek looked him over with those crazy-blue eyes.  
“I had no idea you felt that way.” He really did sound surprised. “It is a shame I did not know sooner.” And then he turned back to the screen.  
“Uh, what? I didn’t mean- What way?” But his back-pedalling was pointless.  
“I can, uh, smell your pheromones, Major.”  
Lorne felt his face heat up and knew he was probably an attractive shade of dark red right about now. He was relieved when Radek said nothing more, working in silence for fifteen minutes.  
And then things started going downhill. Fast.  
Radek doubled over, groaning in pain. Evan was by his side in an instant; his concern for his friend overriding any sense of trepidation about the situation. He had an arm around the scientist’s waist and was trying to manoeuver him upright when an unpleasant rasp of a voice warned him away.  
“You should leave, now.” Radek’s face was contorted in pain.  
“I’m not leaving you.” Evan could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He raised his hand to his radio, but this time, instead of capturing his hand, Radek tore the earpiece away and crushed it in his fist. He had less than a second to process the loss of his radio, before Radek was pushing him backwards into the wall.  
“You can’t help me!” Radek pinned both of Evan’s wrists up by his shoulders against the cool metal wall. “You should have run.” Their eyes locked and Evan found himself once again drowning in a haze of calm. Shades of blue swam like the silhouette of a Great White in a neon blue pool. They were so close, Evan thought he could smell the metal of blood on Radek’s breath, their noses were almost touching. He stretched his neck, leaning forward an inch or so.  
“What are you doing?” Radek asked in a whisper, his words almost touching Evan’s lips.  
“I don’t know,” the Major answered, honestly. If he had to guess, he would say he was thinking about kissing him, but he wasn’t capable of thought right now, so that couldn’t be it, could it? With a slight tilt of his jaw, his lower lip brushed against Radek’s.  
Radek jerked back scrutinising Evan’s face for a moment, before grimacing in pain again, and dropping his head to Evan’s shoulder.  
“I need…” he ground out through gritted teeth, “…need…” his breaths were ragged and hot against the thin skin of Evan’s throat. Fingers tightened around the captured wrists.  
Freed from the mesmerising gaze, Evan realised the severity of his situation. He shoved uselessly at Radek’s chest, but the tiny Czech was immovable. He could feel his eyes widening as fear took hold and the very real possibility that he could die right here in this lab began to take hold. “No!” he moaned, “Please, Radek, don’t,” he begged, as much for his friend’s sake as for his own.  
But the breath just got hotter and closer, until he felt the touch of lips against his neck, the tips of the pointed teeth finding their position against his jugular. He closed his eyes and tried one last time to connect to the man he had been falling in love with; “Radek,” he whispered.  
There was a low rumble that he felt before it turned into a more audible growl, and then he was being hurled across the room; landing painfully hard against the far wall. He felt his shoulder click out of and then back into the socket in the time it took for his head to catch up and bounce off the surface.  
-  
He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. Looking at his watch didn’t really help as he hadn’t made a point of noting what time it said when he was knocked out. He pulled himself up against the console, fighting dizziness and a wave of nausea from which he inferred that he was probably concussed. Purely by chance, he found the laptop screen in his eye-line, and what he saw set off alarm bells in his head. A series of countdowns. Radek had set up some kind of timed program. Two of the timers had lapsed, implying that whatever protocols they represented had already been implemented. Three were still ticking away, although the longest timer only had twenty-five minutes remaining. Evan didn’t understand a lot of computer programming, but he recognised parts of the coding as instructions for the control room, and the stargate itself. And he recognised a gate address; M7G-677.  
Why would he be dialling the kid planet? He tried his hardest to ignore the part of his brain that was telling him not to be so damn stupid. The nanite program idea hadn’t worked out, clearly. The virus must have taken over the reasoning part of his brain though, because even on his grouchiest day the Radek Zelenka they all knew would never consider unleashing this monster on a world of unsuspecting children. Was this really what it had come down to? He was going to escape through the gate and become another enemy? Not if Lorne had anything to say about it. Radek had not yet taken a human life; that meant he wasn’t beyond redemption. Lorne just had to stop him going through that gate.  
He took a couple of steadying breaths and warned his brain to ignore the concussion until this was dealt with, then bolted down the corridor for the transporter.  
-  
He made it almost the whole way to the control room before noticing how quiet the hallways were. He had no radio, so couldn’t call ahead and warn anyone about Radek, but neither could he find out where the hell they all were.  
The panel to the side of the door to the control room was missing, and the crystals in disarray, but the door itself stood open. Evan was a little afraid of what he might find in the control room, and for a moment it seemed that those fears were justified. First he spotted feet poking out from behind the main console, and quickly moved around it to discover Chuck lying unconscious, but alive, on the floor. Another technician had made it to the door to Weir’s office, but met the same fate. All the screens were flashing red; apparently Atlantis was in lockdown but for a few select doors and systems.  
It was only then that his ears picked up on the ruckus coming from the Gate room. He looked down through the window and saw something he had never expected to see; something that would have been beyond hysterical in any other situation.  
Radek was going toe-to-toe with Ronon - and winning.  
Evan swore and swung himself around the console, charging out of the door and down the stairs.  
“Radek!” He yelled, looking around for a weapon. Colonel Sheppard was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, Teyla in a corner, but McKay was nowhere to be seen. He snatched up the p90 from the Colonel’s limp fingers just as Ronon flew backwards into the support column to his left.  
Then the gate started dialling.  
“Radek, don’t do this!” Evan held the weapon at eye-level, swallowing hard as he disengaged the safety. He spared a quick glance at Ronon who groaned and slumped sideways. “We can still save you!” He advanced on the once-harmless scientist, trying to convince himself he could take the shot.  
“I don’t need to be saved,” his voice was low and calm. “Let me go, Evan.” His eyes glowed with the order, his voice echoing in the large room, silent but for the sound of the chevrons locking.  
The gate finished dialling and as the event horizon settled into place, Radek turned towards it.  
“No!” Evan shook the mesmerising effect off – maybe he was developing a tolerance to it. “I won’t let you become a monster!”  
Radek stopped, angled towards the advancing Major and said, sadly, “You’re too late.”  
“No, I’m not,” Evan insisted, catching up, lowering the gun and standing face to face with him. “It’s not too late until you take a life.” He paused to lick his lips, “And if you’re gonna kill someone… you’re gonna have to start with me.” He slid the p90 across the floor, away from them.  
“Evan…” Radek shook his head slowly, but didn’t back away.  
“You need blood? You take mine.” He turned his head to the side, exposing his neck. “Do it!”  
“I…” He was staring at Evan’s neck like it was god damn fillet mignon. “Don’t make me do this.”  
“What? Do you prefer the thought of defenceless kids?” He had more to say, but didn’t get a chance to say it. Radek’s hands were on him before he’d even registered movement; one curled behind his head, securing his neck at an angle, while the other gripped his shoulder.  
There was an endless moment wherein Evan stood still, with his hands at his sides, the event horizon of the wormhole flickering in his peripheral vision, and all he could feel was Radek’s mouth against his neck; warm, soft lips pressing against his pulse. Then he felt that mouth opening, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, letting the sensation take over. Teeth like blades dug into his skin, he winced as they broke it. He couldn’t stifle the whimper that escaped as he felt the gentle sucking commence.  
Radek’s grip tightened as he lost himself in the pleasure, fingers and teeth both digging in harder. His mouth moved faster, sucking with urgency.  
Evan knew he was dying, he could feel himself sinking into darkness as his life-blood was drained away. Well, this wasn’t how he’d expected to go, but considering where they were, it probably could have been a hell of a lot worse.  
He wondered how much longer he had left. He wondered if his sacrifice would be enough. He wondered who was going to win the Superbowl this year.  
He didn’t resent Radek for this; it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t asked to be bitten by that stupid mosquito. No, Radek didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to get some disease, didn’t deserve to become a monster.  
Evan felt it was important to get this across to him before dying, but all he had the strength to do was raise one hand and softly brush his fingers against Radek’s stomach.  
His touch somehow brought the scientist out of his feeding stupor, and he tore his mouth away from the bloody hole in Evan’s neck, gasping for air. Evan’s legs gave way and Radek followed him down as he crumpled to the floor.  
“No, no-no-no, Evan!” He sounded distraught. “Oh gods, what have I done?”  
The floor felt softer than it was as Radek rolled him onto his back. His neck was still throbbing, but it was bearable. He didn’t have the energy to open his eyes, even when he heard the sound of running feet in military issue boots. Radek’s hand left him suddenly, and the sound of multiple stunners filled the air.  
“Get him into the stasis chamber as quickly as possible!” That was Beckett’s voice.  
Other voices started calling out from all over the room, in varying states of urgency.  
“She’s alive.” Evan recognised the voice of one of the nurses, although his thought functions were shutting down, and he couldn’t quite think of her name.  
“John!” That panicked cry had to be McKay, somewhere to his left.  
Then there were fingers poking the undamaged side of his neck.  
“I can’t feel a pulse,” a young, male voice, “Doctor Beckett!”  
He felt more adept hands gently turn his head and press lightly just above his collarbone. He waited patiently to find out if he was still alive or not, completely incapable of giving the doctor any indication himself.  
“It’s there, but it’s very weak.” Well, that was a relief. “I need a gurney, now! If we don’t get him into surgery immediately we’re going to lose him!” Then, in a lower voice, closer to Evan’s ear, “hold on, Major.”  
-  
Lorne was woken by loud voices nearby, arguing. He couldn’t make out the words at first, but after a few moments he was able to identify the speakers; McKay and Beckett.  
“It’s like you’re doing this deliberately to hurt me!” McKay’s familiar high whine ended with an overly-dramatic hiss of pain.  
“Oh, stop complaining, Rodney. If you had just let me take a full pint last time, you wouldn’t have had to come back.” Beckett was calm, his tone soothing, but with a hint of reprimand in it.  
“You have my medical records, you know about my hypoglycaemia, do you want to kill me?”  
“As a physician, I’m telling you, you would have been fine,” Beckett was insisting. “Besides, if you ever get injured badly enough, you can have it all back. There, all done.”  
“Hm, I might just- Oh, hey! Major Lorne’s awake!”  
He hadn’t even realised he’d opened his eyes, and now he was regretting it. His memories were rushing back, all jumbled and surreal, but somehow he knew it had all been real.  
“How are you feeling, Major?” Beckett checked the liquid level in the drip next to his bed.  
Evan tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.  
“Uhm,” he couldn’t think of anything to say. How was he feeling? He wasn’t in any pain, he knew that much, but there was a more emotional ache in his chest.  
“Radek?” He croaked, trying not to think about what might have happened to his friend, before he knew for certain.  
“He’s in stasis, I’ve nearly finished work on a cure,” Beckett offered him a warm smile, “he’ll be fine, I promise.”  
Evan closed his eyes in relief.  
“But right now I want to know how you’re feeling,” the doctor’s tone was beginning to border on patronising, but Evan didn’t think that was deliberate.  
“Tired and achy. How long have I been out?” His voice was starting to feel more natural in his throat, although the vibrations drew his attention to the wound on his neck.  
“Seventeen days. You required a full transfusion, and I had to induce a coma to allow your organs to recover from the oxygen deprivation. You’re also on anti-viral medication to prevent the onset of any vampirism.” The last was said with a playful smile, but they both knew he was serious.  
-  
Beckett finally discharged him from the infirmary four days later, and Colonel Sheppard was there to see him back to his quarters.  
“I still can’t believe Doctor Zelenka took out me, Teyla and Ronon.” Sheppard actually sounded impressed.  
“I don’t think I would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself,” Evan found the memories to be both amusing and terrifying. “I meant to ask earlier; where the hell was everybody? There was no guard in the gate room.”  
“Yeah, the clever little bastard set off an intruder alarm on the North pier, drew all the military personnel to it, then locked down the city. My team and I had only just come through before the lockdown happened, only McKay got out of the gate room in time. I didn’t even see Zelenka coming,” he rubbed the back of his head as if remembering, “next thing I know, I’m waking up on the floor.” He looked at his second-in-command with a rare serious expression. “I was pretty sure you were dead.”  
“I thought I might be, too.” Evan raised his hand and gently touched the scar on his neck – three weeks and ancient medical technology had seen it healed as much as it was going to, and yet it still felt strange; a smooth circle. He’d seen it in the mirror a couple of times, and was dismayed to observe that it was quite visible.  
When he looked back up, the Colonel was smirking at him.  
“Nice hickey,” he teased.  
Evan blushed as much as if it had actually been a love bite.  
“But seriously,” Sheppard stopped walking, and placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder, “you stopped him leaving. You saved him and god knows how many others.”  
-  
The next day Carson announced that he had finished work on his cure, and that he was confident enough to administer it immediately. Zelenka was to be revived from stasis under heavy sedation for treatment; they couldn’t afford for him to get loose again.  
Despite asking very nicely indeed, Lorne had been denied his request to be present for the treatment, so he had been forced to sit patiently in his quarters for the longest six hours of his life, before receiving word that the cure had been successful. Even then, Zelenka was being monitored closely from the holding cell for a minimum of twenty-four hours.  
Evan had planned to wait until he was fully discharged to find out how much the scientist remembered, how much he’d been aware of, but his patience was clearly less impressive than he’d previously believed. He was still signed off from active duty, but thankfully the guards at the cell respected him enough to clear the room for a private conversation.  
“So, how’re you feeling?” He asked, smiling at Radek’s reaction to his presence; the scientist’s head had jerked up from his tablet, a familiar wild panic in his eyes.  
“Major! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” And he truly could not have looked any more apologetic, in fact there were tears in his eyes.  
Evan’s smile widened as he recognised the old Radek, not a trace remained of the emboldened, blood-thirsty fiend.  
“Not your fault, it’s okay, everything’s okay now,” he soothed, wishing he could have some kind of reassuring contact with him.  
Radek put the tablet down and stood up, stepping towards the bars.  
“I thought I’d killed you,” he whispered.  
“Nah, you’ve gotta try a lot harder than that.” Lorne took a step closer to the cell, so that only the bars were separating them.  
Several long moments of silence gave them both ample time to try and work out what the other was thinking. Radek’s expression was still apologetic, but there was also curiosity, and maybe… longing? Evan nervously moistened his lips and went in for the kill.  
“So, I was thinking maybe, once you get the all clear, we could, uh, go for dinner some time? Or just a drink, you know, whatever you want.” He could feel his heart thumping.  
Radek blinked, surprise raising his eyebrows, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.  
“Yes, that would be… good.” He nodded, breaking into a smile before blushing and lowering his head.  
“I’m looking forward to it,” Evan matched his smile as he reached out and touched the metal bars that separated them. “I’ll see you later,” he added, then turned and left the room, beaming.  
-  
End


End file.
